


To the Waters and the Wild

by ClinicalChaos



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Dom Meliorn, Ear Piercings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Good Older Sibling Alec Lightwood, Good Sibling Isabelle Lightwood, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay, Parabatai Bond, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sub Jace Wayland, Worldbuilding, because I can't just write porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22014535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClinicalChaos/pseuds/ClinicalChaos
Summary: Fractured from Clary's loss, Jace falls into bed with Meliorn. It becomes a pattern he can't break--and a love he can't smother.Mercifully, Meliorn wouldn't have it any other way.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Meliorn/Jace Wayland
Comments: 9
Kudos: 217





	To the Waters and the Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Where dips the rocky highland  
> Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,  
> There lies a leafy island  
> Where flapping herons wake  
> The drowsy water rats;  
> There we've hid our faery vats,  
> Full of berrys  
> And of reddest stolen cherries.  
> Come away, O human child!  
> To the waters and the wild  
> With a faery, hand in hand,  
> For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.  
> \--The Stolen Child, W.B. Yeats

The Seelie wine felt thick and silky on Jace’s tongue. It lingered on his lips, honey-sweet. He thought that he could feel every drop pooled in his gut, breaking across his body like warm sunshine. The tension in his shoulders liquified, leaking out of his spine and arms and through each of his fingertips. Muscle by muscle, his core relaxed. He drifted backward and was caught by the soft embrace of huge, consuming pillows. He hummed, eyes drifting closed. Softness cradled his naked skin. He nuzzled his face into the nearest downy corner and sighed.

Elegant fingers brushed Jace’s; the cup was gently stolen from his hand. Jace cracked an eye open, amused to find that he’d shut them in the first place. His lips grinned at the sight before him, an instant reaction to Meliorn’s brilliant smile. Not a smirk, and not the smug twist of his mouth that he liked to wear in public. This shy creature was too beautiful, a glittering expression that made Jace want to taste him until he died.

Half-mesmerized, Jace traced his fingertips along Meliorn’s bottom lip. Meliorn stilled, caught. He blinked dark eyes at Jace, as off guard as Jace had ever seen him. He had to admit, he liked that look. Meliorn always had him on the backfoot. Jace hadn’t tripped up so much since he’d stuttered his way into his first fuck. It gratified him, a little, to see something other than confidence on Meliorn’s immaculate face.

But Jace wasn’t cruel. He leered cockily. “Your smile’s a ten out of ten, by the way.”

Meliorn’s little smirk returned. “Only a ten, hm?”

Jace’s glowing content dimmed. He liked the smile better, but he told himself that its disappearance was okay. Meliorn was comfortable behind veils of implications. Any peek that Jace could sneak between those ever-shifting folds was a victory to be gloried in. 

Resting his chin on Meliorn’s shoulder, Jace made a little noise—one that Meliorn could interpret however he liked. He wasn’t interested in bickering right now. Usually, Jace enjoyed it. Words were like blades to Meliorn, and his mouth wielded them expertly. Jace loved to try and parry him, even if he never succeeded. Today, Jace didn’t have the spirit to do anything more than be close to him.

Today, it had been a year since the Angels had taken Clary. 

All day, Jace had been followed by looks. Short, furtive ones glancing off his chest. Long, searching ones that clung to his spine. Izzy had spent the morning putting him through his paces, sparring him so black and blue that even with his extra angel blood Jace hadn’t been able think through his aching body. By noon, though, Head of the Institute duties had called and forced Izzy to retreat to her office. Jace had expected to wile away the rest of the day alone—and then Alec’s familiar warmth had flooded Jace’s end of their parabatai bond.

Jace had been cold all the time as a kid. His temper had run hot, but it was like that fire stole every bit of other warmth he had. Valentine had stoked that heat into violence. Ten years old and Jace had felt more time-bomb than boy. And then, when Jace had been entirely alone and still stinking of his immolated life, there was Alec. 

“Inquisitor suits you,” Jace had greeted Alec that afternoon. It was true. Three months in Alicante and Alec stood his whole height like he never had in New York. His pale skin wasn’t pallid anymore; the defensive glare was gone from his eyes. Instead, a banked fire waited to incinerate the unwary. He looked confident. Healthy. Dare Jace even think it? Happy. How much was becoming Inquisitor and how much was becoming Alexander Lightwood- _Bane_ was debatable, but Jace knew that Alec felt a security now that he never had before. He had finally found home.

If only Jace could follow him there.

“And head of my guard would suit you,” Alec had replied, reading Jace with an old, familiar ease. He’d smiled lopsidedly, hiding his worries under his casual offer.

“I’m considering it,” Jace had replied, shrugging. He hadn’t lied. As Inquisitor, Alec’s personal guard was an elite force that both protected his person and Idris entire. They were the final line, the warriors called in when the fighting outmatched regular Shadowhunters. That Jace’s grandmother had never sent hers to New York showed just how deeply she’d hated the Lightwoods.

Jace’s sole priority would be protecting Alec and their people. Something in Jace, wound bone-grindingly tight since Alec had settled in Alicante, relaxed at the thought.

Alec had made clear that the position was Jace’s in all but the material sense. As far as Jace knew, Alec hadn’t even faced pushback about it. High Warlock of Alicante had been Alec’s price for accepting the inquisitorship, and Magnus’s appointment to the role had been disparaged by much of the Clave’s old guard. But Head Guard was long established, and Jace was Alec’s parabatai. Appointing Jace was throwing the traditionalists a bone. _Especially with my new name_ , Jace thought. His finger felt heavy, still unused to the Herondale family ring’s weight.

But, to take up the office Jace would have to move to Alicante. And Clary would never set foot there again. Jace’s living in Alicante was as good as burying her. And Jace wasn’t ready for that.

Alec hadn’t pushed him. “Lunch?” he’d offered, switching tracks with his usual obvious kindness. Jace had agreed, content to follow his parabatai’s lead—and wishing that he could follow Alec just that much further. 

Now, Jace rolled his shoulders and tried to let the day go. He wanted to live in the moment; torture himself less with the past. Meliorn made it easier to do. Drawing his fingers through his long hair, Jace focused on the shiny strands. They parted smoothly for him, like dark water, catching just a little on his calluses. Meliorn relaxed into the touch. His body covered Jace’s, his back a warm, solid weight against his chest. Breathing deeply, Jace revelled in the honeysuckle-leather smell that clung to Meliorn’s skin.

“Thank you for letting me come to you tonight,” Jace said, eyes closed. He felt the words down in his soul. Opening a gate to the Seelie realm couldn’t be simple, but after their first night together Jace had never been refused when he asked to return. His gratitude was all-consuming. Sometimes, Meliorn’s villa felt like the only sanctuary Jace knew. 

Meliorn twisted in his lap, turning to face Jace properly. His seemingly delicate hand swept over Jace’s cheek. “I will never turn you away when you ask for me,” he said, simple and unadorned.

Jace looked away. Meliorn seemed like he meant the words how Jace wanted to take them. Izzy had been clear, though. When she’d connected the dots and weaseled the confession out of Jace that he was doing _whatever_ with her ex-boyfriend, she’d sat him down and read him the facts. Seelie were different, immortal in a way that even warlocks couldn’t touch. Any connection that they made to the mortal world was only momentary. And that wasn’t a bad thing, Izzy had stressed, it was just how they were. Jace couldn’t expect more without being cruel—to himself, and to Meliorn.

Izzy’s eyes had been dark with worry. She hadn’t been trying to dissuade him, but she was desperate to protect him. No one had missed that losing Clary had almost killed Jace. If Izzy hadn’t dragged him out of his room every morning, and if Alec hadn’t found him when he’d run the dark streets every night, he probably wouldn’t have made it the first six months. Even Magnus had joined the effort, keeping his loft bright and warm at the most insane hours so that Alec had somewhere comforting to bring Jace back to.

Jace had passed out on Magnus’s couch, once. Well, not just once, but this time he hadn’t quite been asleep before Magnus and Alec had started talking. 

“I’ve lived a long time, Alexander,” Magnus had said, his voice barely above a whisper, “but I’ve not witnessed this.”

Alec had sighed, deep, like he’d pulled it from his toes. Both men must have been exhausted, Jace had thought guiltily. Nothing had been easy for such a long time, and now Jace was shattering apart all over them. Again. No wonder the Angels had taken Clary from him, he was such a fuck-up—

Gentle fingers had stroked through his hair, easing Jace’s buzzing mind. Warmth had pulsed along the bond, constant and reassuring. His brain moving slowly, Jace had relaxed.

“The reason Nephilim love once is because we don’t live through the grief of losing that one,” Alec had explained. His voice had rumbled through the room like distant thunder. “We already have short lives. Siblings almost never all survive together. We usually lose our parents early—which is better. A parent’s grief is worse. My family has been exceptionally lucky, actually.”

“Alexander…” A kiss had cut off Magnus’s sentence.

“What I’m saying is, losing a true love is usually the final blow. We get tired. The fact that none of us are ever going to see the last demon slain sets in. We get sloppy. We die.” There was a pause. “I’ve seen it happen. Being Institute Head means dealing with the fallout.”

“Alec,” Magnus had tried again. Like a storm, Alec had rolled over him.

“That won’t happen to Jace,” Alec said. “He has me, and Izzy, and Max. Even our mother, when she’s in her right mind. I don’t care if I have to drag him off the street every night and force him to sleep, or if Izzy has to kick his ass every morning to make sure he stays sharp. I’ve lost him once. I won’t do it again, Magnus. I _can’t_.”

Jace had drifted off to the crack in Alec’s voice and Magnus’s quiet hushing. There had to have been something stronger than chamomile in the tea Magnus had given him, but Jace didn’t mind. He had heard what he’d needed to. The next day, he’d showered, shaved, and been in the training room to greet Izzy on his own. She’d hugged him hard enough to leave bruises. He’d eaten breakfast with her and managed more than the black coffee and dry toast he’d been living on previously. He’d stayed in the day and caught up on the sea of paperwork his nightly demon-slaughtering rampages had produced. He’d worked through lunch, but he’d been on his way to the mess when Izzy had suggested Taki’s for dinner. Instead of being hunted down by Alec at four in the morning, he’d had dinner with his siblings at a reasonable hour for the first time in months.

Alec had tried hard to hide his relief, but his emotions had pulsed nakedly over the bond. “Call me when you need me, any time,” Alec had ordered, hugging Jace tight as they parted for the night.

“’Course, brother.” He’d buried his nose in Alec’s jacket. “Thank you.”

_Thank you for being here. Thank you for remembering me. Thank you for not letting go. Thank you for staying. Thank you for choosing me back._

Alec had nodded, leaving without another word. He’d heard all the ones that Jace couldn’t say.

For Alec’s sake, and Izzy’s and Max’s, Jace had fought hard to stay level ever since. He’d flirted with the idea of going to find Clary. If he didn’t interact with her, surely the Angels wouldn’t spite him. But he’d refrained. Had he been more miserable, left behind while Alec and Izzy found better things, then maybe he could have justified the risk. But they had fought so hard to keep Jace afloat. Jace couldn’t dismiss all that work. So, he’d avoided Clary’s gallery openings. He let himself search for news of her in the mundane media once a week, just to make sure that she was okay, but nothing more. Instead, he’d gone to the park on those nights and tried to clear his head. Meliorn had found him sitting on a bench one evening. The rest was history.

 _Or fantasy_ , Jace corrected, eyes caught on Meliorn and his inhuman beauty. 

Meliorn’s lips quirked, obviously aware of Jace and his scattered attentions. “You think so hard,” he said, almost rueful. He was straddling Jace’s thighs, his arms wound around Jace’s neck. The position forced him to meet Meliorn’s eyes. When Jace swallowed, trying to get a grip, Meliorn smugly followed the motion. “But you try so hard not to let anyone see it,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed Jace’s cheek. “What are you thinking about now?”

Through teeth sunken into his bottom lip, Jace yielded. “Alec wants me in Alicante,” he said. It was the truth, but maybe not the biggest one. Jace had to keep some things back. Izzy had said to—but it was hard when so many of his nights ended in Meliorn’s bed. 

“Do you not want to be in Alicante?” Meliorn queried, pulling Jace’s focus back. He tilted his head curiously, his long hair sliding over his shoulders. Thin, clever fingers walked over Jace’s chest, making him shiver.

“I think I might,” Jace allowed, knowing by now better than to outright lie. “But I’m not sure I want to leave New York.”

“New York will be here long after you are not. You know this.” Meliorn nipped softly at the hinge of Jace’s jaw. His words, when he spoke, drifted warmly over Jace’s ear. “Do you mean Clary Fairchild?”

Jace huffed, surprised. “You really know how cut through my bullshit, don’t you?’

Meliorn smirked. “I like to think I’m a quick study, yes.”

Jace let his eyes go half-lidded. “So, you’ve been studying me?”

“Jace,” Meliorn censured, pinching his side. “Answer.”

Jace breathed out slowly, shifting in his nest of comforts. He reminded himself that _this_ was why he kept coming back to Meliorn. The sex was amazing, but sex wouldn’t have been enough. Jace was, at least, smarter than that. But Meliorn seemed to care about him, and care enough that Jace couldn’t brush him off. It was dangerous. It was addictive. And Jace was such an idiot.

“I don’t want to abandon her,” Jace admitted. The words tumbled over each other, rushing to be said. He hadn’t dared to say them before, relying on his siblings to just _know_. Saying them made words into reality—and so much more powerful than when they just floated around his head. “What if this isn’t the end? What if she needs me?”

For months, Jace had lived in terror of closing his eyes _just in case_. Since Clary had stumbled into his world with her open box of chaos, there had been several peaceful moments. Days just like the ones he lived in now. And then, out of the blue, had come demons and madmen and _Greater Demons_ , Queens of Hell and raw, sheer havoc. And Jace was supposed to leave her behind now?

Meliorn’s fingers settled on his forehead, drifting down his face and along his jaw. His thumbs swept Jace’s cheeks like he was wiping away tears, a motion he repeated even as Jace’s eyes closed. The fear he’d felt crushing his chest loosened its grip. Meliorn’s hands were cool and preternaturally soft, breezing along Jace’s skin. He didn’t protest when those hands glided further, holding Jace’s arms still as Meliorn slid out of his lap. He guided them both down until they were lying flat on the bed, Jace’s head cradled on Meliorn’s stomach.

Bemused, Jace laughed. “You know, that’s the easiest way I’ve ever been put on my back. What for?”

Those fingers found Jace’s hair, playing teasingly in the strands and then pressing against his skin. The smooth massage drew a low, soft moan out of Jace. All his thoughts disappeared, stolen away by delicious pressure.

Meliorn hummed approvingly, a sound that made Jace’s toes curl. “I like your honesty,” Meliorn said, velvet soft. “And I will admit a truth of my own in turn: I do not like your answer.”

Brain gone to mush, Jace mumbled, “What?”

“Clary was a noble warrior, and your loyalty to her proves you her equal. But she has been placed beyond your reach,” Meliorn replied lightly. “You need to let her go.”

Jace sucked in a breath. His heart thudded in his chest, reminding him that, even in pieces, it still beat. No one had dared to say such a thing to him. But Meliorn’s words didn’t land like a blow—they felt like drawing out poison.

“I thought I was,” Jace wheezed, rubbing at his stupidly stinging eyes. Like _crying_ would help anyone. “Maybe I don’t know how.”

He went to sit up, but Meliorn was there. His arms were steel-strong, but he handled Jace gently. Faced with that overwhelming kindness, Jace didn’t fight him. He couldn’t. Exhaustion weighed too heavily on his bones. He was always so tired. He forced himself to sleep as much as he could, to not abuse his Stamina rune or the Institute’s espresso machine, but nightmares kept him up. There was too much evil in his head.

Meliorn, like when Jace woke up terrified during one of their nights together, calmed him down. His hands were everywhere but nowhere for long, never restraining him but grounding him. When Jace stilled, no longer trembling, his stomach not so sick, petal-soft lips pressed against his—a sweet reward.

“You are doing so good,” Meliorn said. He always waited until after Jace had calmed to speak, knowing that Jace’s head was a noisy enough place. “I see how hard you work and how much you try. And you succeed so often, and you never see that, but I do.”

Jace sighed. He didn’t want to think about how those words filled him with golden light. He didn’t want to think at all. Quietly, Jace admitted, “I want to go to Alicante, Meliorn. Izzy isn’t long for the Institute—the Alicante R&D Head is retiring in a year. But I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You would thrive among your siblings,” Meliorn replied. Instant. Doubtless. “You would lead your people into a better age. You would defend your brother, support your sister, and live beholden to no authority other than the ones you have sworn yourself to.”

“And,” Meliorn said, after a suddenly hesitant minute where Jace couldn’t find words to speak, “I would join you.” 

For the second time in what must have only been minutes, Jace was blindsided. “You would what? Meliorn, you can’t be serious.”

He tugged Jace’s curls sharply, making him wince. “I assure you,” Meliorn chided, “I am entirely.”

Heedless, Jace stammered on. “But the court! You were just telling me what a mess it was.”

“The sides will fight themselves out sooner or later,” Meliorn dismissed. His hand squeezed down to perch on Jace’s nape, a lazy thumb sweeping over the top knob of his spine. “It may even better my side to have me absent a while.”

Shivering, Jace looked down. He cheek pressed firmer against Meliorn’s silken tunic, giving the false impression that Jace could hide against Meliorn’s side forever. Jace wanted to live in that daydream. “I don’t believe you,” Jace muttered, heat wafting over his face. “You’re the best damn thing about the Seelie realm.”

Meliorn didn’t comment. When Jace snuck a look under his lashes, though, he could see that Meliorn was pleased. His dark eyes glowed with it. “Be that as it may,” Meliorn eventually allowed, “a time away from court would please me. A time away from court with you would please me best.”

Jace’s heart stuttered. “Flatterer,” he said, caught-out for any other reply. They had never spent anymore than a night together. Meliorn had never even _hinted_ —

“Not when I speak the truth,” Meliorn parried, and pulled Jace into a kiss.

 _He tastes like honeysuckle, too_ , Jace thought. Sweet and airy, luscious on Jace’s lips. Meliorn’s hands cradled his face, all that swordsman’s power coiled up tightly. His panic melted under thier touch. 

“Another truth,” Meliorn said as they parted, “is that you are wearing too many clothes.” He still held Jace like he was Meliorn’s most precious possession.

Emotions welled in Jace, and he fought hard against them. Snark was his favourite weapon. “Are you using sex to distract me from life challenges?” Jace asked, parroting the day-time TV doctor he’d sometimes watched at Magnus’s. “Because I’ve heard that’s bad, but I’m down for it.”

Meliorn had elegantly maneuvered Jace onto his knees and out of his shirt by the end of his sentence. Calmly, he took Jace’s hand and pressed it against the hard bulge growing against Meliorn’s thin pants. Jace choked on his breath, hot want sparking in his gut. Reading the order in Meliorn’s action, he stroked lightly through the fabric and fixed his eyes on Meliorn’s face.

“I don’t need to distract you,” Meliorn said. His voice was silk, pouring through Jace’s brain and leaving him tingling. Those fingers crept around Jace’s bare waist, skimming down the curve above his ass. They dipped lower still, slipping under his underwear to cup his cheeks. Jace’s breath shallowed, his body caught between freezing and melting.

Meliorn smiled at him, close-lipped and knowing. The scar the Seelie Queen had given him wrinkled with it. Jace itched to press kisses over the deformity that bitch had left—after he took her head off. But she was at the mercy of her people, now, and Meliorn had implied that Seelie wrath would see her gruesomely punished. Jace’s violence wasn’t needed or desired. Rather, he should be as he was: under Meliorn’s hands. They had spoken about it before, Meliorn pressing the words into Jace skin while his mouth swallowed Jace’s apologies. What had made Jace shake with rage now passed by him as a short impulse, easily distracted. As he was now, Meliorn’s free hand shoving down his unzipped jeans.

“No fair, Mel,” Jace started, whining a little. Meliorn pulled them off anyway, leaving Jace ass-naked on the bedspread. He hummed a little, unintentionally. The bed was made up for winter, the delicately embroidered covers draped with soft furs from some Seelie animal Jace didn’t recognize. Jace, used to the scentless cotton Institute sheets, was always a little blindsided by how _soft_ Meliorn’s bed was. And _good smelling_. Like vanilla and sweet spices and other things that Jace didn’t know.

While Jace sunk into the bed, Meliorn prowled forward on his hands and knees. Jace was caged in by him, Meliorn’s long hair tickling his stomach as he dipped down to kiss just above Jace’s cock. Jace hissed, lightning striking at that little place. His hips jerked messily, fingers fisting in the furs.

Tsking, Meliorn sat back on his knees. He locked eyes with Jace while he removed his blousy shirt, throwing it off the bed. Jace’s mouth went dry, his eyes divided on where to look. Should he trace the shadowed contours of Meliorn’s sculpted copper skin, or follow the inked vines that began on his face and tumbled down his neck and chest? Jace couldn’t choose. As Meliorn poured himself out of his leggings, his choice became even harder.

Obviously aware of Jace’s attention, Meliorn balanced a moment on his knees to survey him in turn. Desire made his eyes more black than brown and he spoke easily, like he couldn’t fathom keeping the words back. “You’re so good for me, my beautiful Jace.”

Unique to Meliorn, the words struck Jace and drew blood. Something foreign, _shyness_ , made Jace wonder what Meliorn saw in him. He must notice the black runes and the silvery marks they left behind, stark against Jace’s skin. Maybe he paused on the pale pink reminders of Jace’s training mistakes, or the knarled, almost purple scars left by demonic wounds. Mostly, people Jace had slept told him his scars were sexy. They fondled the ones they could reach when he sucked them off or fucked them. They liked the danger, Jace thought. They liked to hold the violent evidence in their hands, knowing it would never hurt _them_. Each hot mouth that had traced the long scar cutting across his stomach—a ravener had nearly gutted him three days after his fifteenth birthday—seemed to think that they were the first to do it. _So kinky_. Jace snorted. 

Jace gasped, nipple stinging from Meliorn’s quick pinch. He stared up into the dark eyes that swallowed whole the ghosts of all his past lovers. “I hope I’m not boring you already,” Meliorn said, twisting his nipple again.

Jace arched into the touch. “Never,” he mumbled. Meliorn had barely touched him, but already he could feel a bead of sweat roll back into his hairline. His nerves were like live wires under his skin. 

“Good,” Meliorn replied, brushing his fingers over Jace’s abused nipple in sweet forgiveness. Jace sighed as the irritated flesh panged again under his touch. Something had always been crossed in Jace’s head. Pain and pleasure were a blurry red craving that had sent him slamming too hard to his knees in dingy bars too often, and probably too young. It was why he refused to give Max advice about girls.

The fingers returned, punishing and keen. Regretful, Jace moaned his apology. Both of Meliorn’s hands we occupied with his chest, twisting and pulling and pinching with sharp nails. Jace was hot and red across his whole chest, tingling knife-edged sensitivity soaking up into his collarbones. His breath kept hitching with each step Meliorn took closer to real pain, leaving Jace to fight hard for calm.

“How do you feel, beauty?” Meliorn asked. His voice was so soft and so warm with affection that Jace nearly sobbed. “Can you focus on me now, or do you need more?”

‘More’ was a dangerous game. There was a tall armoire in the far corner of Meliorn’s bedroom, just outside of view from the bed. Inside was a seemingly endless collection, all handsome leather, sterling silver, and gleaming oak. If Jace asked, Meliorn would take him to pieces with the tools behind those doors. Jace would wake up aching in that good way, but not bloodied and disgusting like he had when he’d indulged before Meliorn. He would be warm and clean, bandaged where needed and smelling like three or four kinds of earthy creams and tinctures. Most importantly, Meliorn would be there chase away the cold, hollow feeling Jace sometimes got after even a good night out.

Once, Meliorn had tried to explain the whole process to him. But Jace was a poor student. He knew enough to know that Meliorn was trustworthy and left it there. Now, Jace was neck deep and had no desire to extricate himself, ever.

Izzy would weep if she ever found out how deep he’d fallen. But that was what Jace did best—fall. It was inevitable that he’d have to hit the ground eventually. But not tonight. 

“I can be good,” Jace said after the pause he’d needed to string real words together. He arched his body in a sinuous roll, enjoying the popping vertebra in his spine and how his skin pulled tight and sensitive over his chest. His eyelashes fluttered of their own accord as he sighed, “I promise.”

Meliorn hummed, laying his hands flat on Jace’s belly. “I don’t doubt you will try—I do think you might fail. I may have a special thought in mind. Would you like to hear it?”

“Please,” Jace sighed. Meliorn’s thumb was rubbing lazy circles below his navel, just skimming above his hard cock. It was like he was coiling pleasure up there, right under Jace’s skin.

“First, I have a present for you,” Meliorn said. Jace quietly mourned the loss of his touch, though he was soothed by the gorgeous play of Meliorn’s muscles as he bent back towards his nightstand. He righted himself easily, a small, smooth wooden box in his hands. 

“What is it?” Jace asked, curious. Shadowhunters weren’t big on presents. He rested back on his elbows as he strained to get a better look.

Watching Jace with naked amusement, Meliorn placed the box on Jace’s abs. “Simply a mark of my esteem,” Meliorn answered.

“I thought that you were about to give me several marks of your esteem?” Jace said, raising his eyebrows. Some of the headrush was clearing, giving Jace better control of his words again.

Meliorn shook his head, but his smirk suggested that he was amused anyway. “I would like to think that this is a more permanent expression. Open it?”

It was a question, but there was just enough of an order in Meliorn’s silky voice to send another shiver down Jace’s spine. Nodding to Meliorn, Jace set to work. He watched Meliorn’s face as much as what he was doing. It was a puzzle box, not unlike the ones Jace had seen displayed in Mundane markets. More beautiful by far, though, he thought when he looked down to focus better. The wood was a warm chocolate, swirling with lighter tones and worked stone smooth. Lacy leaves glimmered in gold, pressed into the wood.

“You know, I’m pretty sure it’s bad taste—” _to give someone something they can’t open_ , Jace was going to say. But then the box pulsed warmly in his hands, the leaves flaring briefly under his fingertips. It slid apart into four pieces, revealing a tiny green bag. “Jewelry?” Jace guessed, curious.

“Not a traditional gift for a Shadowhunter,” Meliorn acknowledged. He reached forward and ran his fingers through Jace’s hair again, a familiar gesture that guided Jace to look up and meet his eyes. They were soft but serious, framed by his thick black lashes. “But one I hope you might indulge me in wearing?”

Jace was proud that he managed not to say what he wanted to: that he’d wear anything Meliorn wanted him to, at any time, for as long as he wanted, just because Meliorn had thought to ask him to. That was how Jace worked, he was finding, in relationships—all or nothing, all of the time. But he had to learn to moderate himself if he wanted this thing with Meliorn to last as long as it could. He knew that. He was trying. So, he was sort of proud when he managed a short, “Of course.”

Meliorn was smiling again, soft and knowing. Jace dropped his eyes. He couldn’t meet Meliorn’s as he drew open the little bag. His stomach felt full of butterflies, or maybe something worse—black, wispy demons, making him nervous and nauseous by turns. Persistently, Jace pushed them back and made himself focus on the little green velveteen bag in his hands. He blinked when its contents spilled onto his palm, so brilliant and silvery that it didn’t look quite real. Or earthly.

“It’s beautiful,” Jace murmured, running his fingers tips over the cool metal. He frowned slightly. “How do you…wear it?

Meliorn laughed, his hair tumbling down over his shoulders, the long, soft lines of his throat exposed. Jace’s breath caught in his chest. He was so, so beautiful, so strong and so warm. His laughter was a stunning, unexpected gift; a bell-chime ringing joyfully over Jace’s senses. Jace had always treasured his smile—but this was a new level. Jace was so pleased to have found it that he didn’t even mind that Meliorn was laughing as his expense. Much.

“Come here, lovely,” Meliorn said, snatches of happiness still curling his mouth. Jace revelled in having Meliorn’s arms wound around him, moving obediently forward into the place Meliorn had made for him. He fell easily into the kiss Meliorn met him with, sighing against those lips that felt increasingly, dangerously more like home every time they met his. 

When they broke apart, Meliorn didn’t let him go far. He stroked fingers through Jace’s hair, tucking the strands behind his ear. “You are so dear to me,” Meliorn said, catching Jace’s eyes and holding his gaze. “You are a lethal warrior and a fierce commander.” Jace couldn’t make himself look away. Meliorn’s regard was too deep, too sweet to refuse. As though sensing he’d found a chink in Jace’s armor, Meliorn pressed on, “But that is not your most awe-some gift. You did not let it be. Instead, you suffered a world designed to make you merciless, and refused. You were told to become a traitor to save your life, and you refused. So many times, life conspired to make you monstrous, and every time, you chose kindness instead.”

“Mel,” Jace gasped, stricken. His throat was tight and his face was hot, and his lungs felt frozen. “Please. It’s not like that, I’m not—" 

“Not what, beauty?” Meliorn asked. He held Jace so gently that his eyes burned.

“Good,” Jace choked. To his mortification, what must have been a tear rolled wetly down his cheek.

Meliorn was shaking his head at Jace’s first word, just slightly, a careful, personal denial. “You simply don’t see it,” Meliorn said. He brushed the offending water off Jace’s face with a deft hand. “That’s okay. I’ll be here the day you do, and all the other days.”

“Meliorn,” Jace breathed. His heart was skipping beats in his chest. He felt run-through. “You can’t say things like that.”

Meliorn’s head tipped to the side. “Why not?”

He seemed genuinely perplexed. Jace felt his eyes water again. “I can’t play these games.” He was weak, and pathetic, and he couldn’t hide it anymore. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I read into things, I see things I shouldn’t. I—I’m not smart like Izzy, Mel. Please. I’m sorry.”

“Jace,” Meliorn interrupted, brow furrowed. He looked so confused, Jace thought blearily. “What do you mean?”

Jace blew out a breath. “I know this isn’t supposed to be permanent. But when you talk about going to Alicante with me, or always being with me, I can’t—I can’t remember that. And I need to, or I’m just going to hurt us both.”

“Oh Jace, my Jace,” Meliorn said. His hands were occupied keeping the tears off Jace’s skin and stroking his shoulders and arms, soothing him like a panicky bird. “Why would you need to remember that? Why do you assume I do not want you for as long as I can have you?” Meliorn paused, blinking like he was reading over his words in his mind. The he held Jace’s chin in his careful fingers and made Jace read the truth in his eyes. “I do, Jace. I do. I want you for all the years available to us.”

Jace felt like his brain had short wired. Or maybe he’d died. He’d taken out a pack of something new and ugly last night; one must have gotten lucky. Either way, “That can’t be true,” Jace said. “You can’t want me like that.”

Meliorn breathed deeply. Concern was set into every line of his face, making Jace feel cared for and guilty all at once. “I assure you that I do. I want you in my bed—”

Wetly, Jace snorted. “Well, I knew that.”

Meliorn silenced him with a finger against in his lips. “Hush,” he ordered. “I am not sure of what you know, if you cannot accurately gage my affection for you.” His hands ghosted sweetly down the side of Jace’s neck, over his racing pulse. Jace’s lashes fluttered. His touch felt so, so good.

“You must know what you mean to me,” Meliorn concluded. A quiet commandment.

“Mel…” Jace protested, unsure he could take anymore earnest words.

Meliorn hushed him again, gentling him into silence with his touch. “I want you in my bed because I love your pleasure, yes, but also because I know you are safe here. There are no monsters for you to hunt, nor any duplicitousness from your brethren to fear.”

Jace frowned. “Alec—”

“Has done masterfully, leashing the Clave,” Meliorn agreed. “That does not mean that I do not worry for you when you are out of my sight.” He pressed a kiss to Jace’s brow. His hands swept over Jace’s shoulders, strong and hot against Jace’s skin, “That I do not worry, when you are away from my touch.” His clever fingers pinched again at Jace’s nipples, drawing a low, struggling sound out of Jace’s throat, “When I cannot hear, or taste you.” Lips met Jace’s, claiming him immediately.

Jace sighed into the kissing, giving up and giving way to Meliorn’s easy dominion. His brain was foggy with Meliorn’s words, drunk on his touch. Emotion poured from Meliorn’s body, sinking into Jace’s skin with a drugging intensity. Still. “We’re different worlds, Mel,” Jace whispered, slow, eyes heavy lidded and sore. “What we’re doing, it’s a fucking tragedy.”

 _To love is to destroy. To be loved is to be destroyed._ Would Jace ever escape it?

“Your kind may love to death,” Meliorn said, “but not mine. He brought Jace’s hands up and wound their fingers together. “If you cannot trust yourself, trust me.”

“Okay,” Jace said. Trust Meliorn. He could do that. “Okay. Okay. Mel, please. Can we… what were you were planning, before I…?” _Cried all over you like an insecure child?_ Sweet Raziel. He was always his worst when he wanted to be good.

“Jace,” Meliorn said seriously. “Are you sure that’s what you want? We never have to.” A spark of desire had lit his eyes, but Jace could see that it was banked. Safety first, with Meliorn. It made Jace feel more secure in his request.

Jace nodded, and then spoke when Meliorn frowned. “Yes, please. I need to trust you. I need to feel it.”

“You never have to prove yourself to me,” Meliorn started, cautious, trying to read where Jace was coming from.

“I know that,” Jace said, relieved to find that his words felt true. Meliorn had always met him at his lowest; what was there to prove to him? “I need to feel it for myself, Mel. I need to let you take me there and I—I need to let you take care of me, after.” Jace blushed. “If you’re, you know, into it?”

Meliorn nodded. Jace could see him building a plan behind his eyes. “I am, beauty, thank you for asking,” he said, rewarding Jace with a quick kiss. He settled back on his heels, giving Jace the most space he’d had all night. “Can you give me your words, Jace?”

Jace’s heartbeat slowed with every syllable. “Green for continue, yellow for proceed with caution, ‘iratze’ for stop.” What Meliorn called the ‘traffic light system’ worked well for Jace, but _stop_ was too important for something so generic. Jace had too much experience with body-switching, alternate universe dopplegangers, and possessions. _Stop_ needed to be something specific, something no one could know but Meliorn.

“Perfect, my beauty.” Meliorn stroked a comforting hand down Jace’s arm before rolling elegantly to his feet. “Lie flat against the pillows and fix your eyes on the window,” he commanded softly. “Do not look away unless I tell you to.”

Jace followed the orders without hesitation. It was a familiar position, one that Meliorn liked to use when he felt that Jace needed a moment to breathe. He was never wrong, Jace admitted silently. He lost himself easily in how the flowers lining Meliorn’s window swayed. He was nearly asleep by the time he clocked Meliorn’s footsteps drawing near.

“Now,” Meliorn said, breaking the silence. Jace twitched to hyperawareness, senses clinging to Meliorn. His sharp voice was punctuated by the tap of a tray against his nightstand’s tabletop. “Tell me if you would like to know my plans. No matter if I decide to tell you, I expect you to maintain this position.”

He wasn’t offering Jace a choice. He was ordering Jace to voice a preference. Jace relaxed further, his brain beginning to drift. “No, Mel.”

Meliorn hummed. He ran a finger along the curve of Jace’s cheek, over his bottom lip, teasing Jace’s peripheral vision. His skin tingled in Meliorn’s wake. “That pleases me,” Meliorn said, idle. He tapped Jace’s left wrist. “Give me the earring.”

Jace blinked, surprised that he’d forgotten he was still holding Meliorn’s present. “Is that what it is?” Jace wondered. “Sorry, but I don’t—oh.” Jace’s face went hot as he realized what Meliorn’s plans were. Little sparks of anticipation jumped in his gut and he shifted, restless, against the pillows.

Jace felt Meliorn pluck the jewelry from his palm, Jace’s gaze still obediently fixed on the window. His fingers eased through Jace’s hair, trailing the shell of his ear, lighting up Jace’s every nerve. “Exactly,” Meliorn replied. He ducked down and pecked Jace’s lips, a knee braced on the bed, his hair sweeping over Jace’s naked chest and drowning Jace in honeysuckle.

Jace whined, dizzy and needy. The air lay warm and still against his skin, but fire lit up his flesh where Meliorn touched. His lips tingled with want, cock hardening despite Meliorn’s intentional avoidance. Every shift brushed the soft furs against his body, tickling his sensitive inner thighs, his sides, his ass and balls. He felt vulnerable, laid open and carefully displayed for Meliorn’s gaze, his touch. Warmth lapped at him and lulled him _down, down, down_ , where all was languid and honeyed.

 _Cold_ and _wet_ doused his ear, making Jace whine crankily. He didn’t turn to look at what it was, though. Meliorn had that said he mustn’t. Jace was _good_. He listened. Besides, Meliorn was _right there_. Jace could hear his amused huff. Soon enough, Meliorn’s hands were there, too, brushing his hair back and trailing teasingly along his collarbones, lightly over his throat. One wicked hand dipped down and pulled his nipple, sending heat afresh racing across Jace’s chest. His body jack-knifed, arching up, hips jerking, desperate for more, _please_.

“You make such pretty noises for me, beautiful,” Meliorn complimented, “I never tire of hearing them.” He raked his nails down Jace’s chest; he seemed to savor Jace’s shout, lazing his hand down over the burning lines while Jace whimpered and trembled. His cock pulsed and dripped, needful and ignored.

“Thank you, Mel,” Jace gasped, hoarse. His head was spinning, but he knew the rules. Direct compliments required acknowledgement. Meliorn thought they sunk into Jace’s head better that way.

“You’re welcome,” Meliorn said. He kissed Jace’s shoulder, offering a soft counterpoint to Jace’s stinging chest. Then he pulled back, leaving a cool space where he had been.

“Mel?” Jace prodded. Meliorn hadn’t gagged him or ordered him silent. Questions must be okay.

Something thin and sharp pricked the shell of Jace’s ear. “Yes, lovely?” Meliorn asked, idle.

Jace was completely still. Even his blood felt solid in his veins. Meliorn must have felt him freeze, because Jace could picture the concern on his face when he said, “Color, Jace.”

“Green,” Jace replied instantly. “Just—keep a hand on me, Mel, please? Or talk, please?” _I need to know it’s you,_ Jace didn’t say. So many people had lain claim on Jace, and almost all of them had done it against his will. Meliorn would never be one of those, but Jace’s stupid brain seemed to need a little help remembering it was Meliorn wielding the needle.

Fingers brushed through his hair again, a kiss falling on his cheekbone. “Of course, my beauty,” Meliorn said. “You are with me. You are safe. Just relax for me.”

“Thank you, Mel,” Jace repeated, body melting into the bed.

“Of course,” Meliorn assured. “It will be quick,” he said, “a pinch right here.” His fingers, damp with what must have been fresh disinfectant, tapped lightly on a bit of Jace’s ear that he’d never thought much about before. “It’s called a helix piercing. The jewelry will follow down the shell, a vine of silver leaves against your golden hair.”

“Sounds beautiful, Mel,” Jace said foggily, his cheeks red and mind lulled down by Meliorn’s voice.

“You are,” Meliorn said, hand resting gently on Jace’s face. Stabbing pain lit up the side of his head.

“Gah!” Jace choked, tears springing involuntarily to his eyes. His whole ear pulsed with it, red hot and burning, but he didn’t pull away and Meliorn was quick. Before Jace was even really cognizant he felt cool metal leaves twining around his ear, immediately an intimate part of his body. “Mel,” Jace gasped, hands fluttering at his sides.

“So perfect,” Meliorn purred. Satisfaction flooded his voice. Hot and languid, he added, “Come here, Jace.”

Jace turned instantly, seeking Meliorn’s arms, eager for the contact he’d been denied while trying to do a good job of lying still. Meliorn caught him easily, rewarding him with several gracious kisses—long and wet plunderings punctuated by nipping teeth. His skin was hot against Jace’s. Hands took purchase in his hair, tugging and massaging by turns, anchoring Jace’s precarious position balanced on his knees at the edge of the bed.

“Put your arms around my neck and hold on,” Meliorn said, solving Jace’s problem of whether he was allowed to touch back or not. Orders followed, Meliorn lifted him effortlessly. Anticipatory, Jace kicked his legs out and let himself be thrown on his back, Meliorn covering him like a surging wave.

“If I weren’t concerned about infection, that piercing would never stop stinging,” Meliorn hissed, his whole face set just on the right side of mean. Jace groaned, heat pouring into his blood and swelling his cock past bearing.

“I have healing runes,” he supplied dazedly. A cork popped. Jace blinked and found Meliorn slicking up his hand with that Seelie oil he liked, the one that burned, just a little, wherever it was applied.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Meliorn said, eyes gone wicked and leering. “Tell me, beauty, should I ride you until my thighs leave bruises and your dick’s gone raw, or fuck you until you’re sore and gaping? Either way, you won’t leave my bed until noon.”

Jace cursed, whining and bucking, but Meliorn was implacable, his fingers biting more and more painfully into Jace’s thighs until words started tumbling out. “Fuck me, fuck me, _please_ , Mel, or ride me, whatever you want, please, I just want you, please—”

“Maybe both,” Meliorn mused, breath whispering over Jace’s punctured ear, a thumb sweeping over his aching nipple. They were stomach to stomach, Meliorn’s whole lithe torso pressing down on Jace, pinning him in place. Jace was sobbing, panting between noises as Meliorn whispered, “Maybe I’ll keep you here even longer, fucking you one way and then another, until you can’t tell when or where you are. Until you just know you’re mine, my beautiful boy, wet and raw and open and all for me.”

Meliorn’s thigh ground against his weeping cock to emphasize his words, wrenching a scream out of Jace’s mouth. His throat stung with it, and his eyes felt wet again. He was huffing for air, but words kept tumbling out in an endless, broken litany of “please, please, please, Mel, please.”

He could feel Meliorn’s sides flutter with silent laughter. Jace whined, embarrassment and frustration and desperate lust all at war within him. Then Meliorn fisted a slick, firm hand around his cock and pulled, sending what felt like Jace’s whole self shattering into a billion tiny fragments.

“Who do you belong to?” Meliorn snapped, fingers clenched around Jace’s base to kill his orgasm. Jace jerked impotently in his grasp.

“You, Mel, I belong to you, please, please,” Jace sputtered, eyes blinking past fresh tears.

“Good, that’s right,” Meliorn cooed, smiling at him. “For how long are you mine, my beauty?”

Jace’s brain was too torn up to think of anything but the truth. “As long as you want me,” he exhaled.

Meliorn hummed, a dark and ancient satisfaction in his eyes that made something equally old in Jace fall to its knees and supplicate. “Until the end, then, my love,” Meliorn promised, and drove a finger into Jace’s hole. “And I swear to fuck it into you every time you need reminding,” he promised over Jace’s whimpers.

He was sobbing Meliorn’s name into the open air, unable to comprehend why he shouldn’t when his hole clenched and fluttered so good around Meliorn’s finger, when Meliorn had been so good as to fill him up where he felt so empty. The second finger shoved him higher, burning him brighter and making him wetter and hotter from the inside out. His legs were flung so wide his hips stung with it, pressed to their limit without a rune to help but desperate to give Meliorn every inch he might need to keep Jace feeling so, so good. As though in recognition of his service, Meliorn bit throbbing kisses into that junction. He laved his tongue over each tiny wound, sucking bruises that would glow bloody plum on Jace’s skin.

Half-mad, Jace thrust down, hunting for more, yelping loud when Meliorn smacked him hard across the thigh. “Patience,” Meliorn glared, firm, before soothing his palm over Jace’s stinging flesh. “You know the rules. Take just one more for me, then I’ll give you what you want.”

“Yes, Mel. Sorry, Mel,” Jace heaved, repentant. He did know, even driven out of his mind. Because Jace would happily hurt himself if there were no rules, and that was where Meliorn drew his line.

“You are forgiven,” Meliorn said, and proved it by pushing in his third finger. Jace wailed. He wanted to shove his hands over his mouth, to stop those humiliating sounds, but he’d been trained out of that instinct—his cock jerked with the remembered spankings. They were Meliorn’s sounds and Jace had no right to deny him them. So he lay there, a noisy, useless mess, and made Meliorn his only commandment.

“There we are, beauty,” Meliorn soothed, eyes all dark honey and wine, “my lovely boy. Easy, now, easy” he cautioned as he removed his fingers. Jace still gave up a little squeak, too loose and wet for comfort without something inside. “I know,” Meliorn hushed him, butterflying kisses over Jace’s fluttering throat as he adjusted and lined up, bumping his thick cockhead against Jace’s dripping hole.

“Please, Mel,” Jace moaned. He tasted copper on the back of his tongue, and his lips stung when Meliorn kissed him silent.

“No more begging,” Meliorn ordered lovingly. “Just relax.” And on Jace’s respondent exhale, he thrust in.

Jace didn’t even know what sound he was making. His throat hurt with it, but he couldn’t stop. His head was in that place of complete accord with his body, every action filled with molten pleasure and happening a second slower than usual. His legs clamped around Meliorn’s back, pulling him closer and sinking his body deeper on Meliorn’s cock. There was no space left in Jace for thoughts. He was consumed entirely by fire, a kind he would curl up in happily for the rest of his life.

Meliorn didn’t waste time or words. He plunged into Jace with hard, deep strokes, pounding brutally at that spot in Jace that sent stars sizzling around his vision. He had both arms around Jace, supporting himself on his elbows while Jace clung to his shoulders. Jace’s nails maybe bit into Meliorn’s skin too hard, but Jace couldn’t really tell, or think, or notice. Heat was eating him up from the inside now, winding him so tight that he could barely breath. He was fighting hard for control, so hard that he finally felt that sore sport on his lip break into a proper, bleeding split. 

“Please,” Jace whimpered, just once. The word tasted bloody coming out of his mouth.

Meliorn kissed him hard, sucking Jace’s split lip. His teeth were faintly pink when he pulled away and smiled. “Come apart for me, Jace.”

Jace shrieked. There was no other word for it. His every inch of skin was charged, body bowed as the orgasm shook out of him. He fell back into the sheets in a daze, twitching with every extra thrust Meliorn poured into him, unable to react much beyond a dreamy smile. His hole still burned a little while Meliorn spilled into him and collapsed, heaving, on Jace’s chest.

Lying there, Meliorn obviously couldn’t resist temptation any longer—he reached up and dragged one long finger over Jace’s new jewelry, tracing the silvery leaves adoringly. Jace hissed, too tired to react beyond that even as pain lit up his ear. Meliorn apologised with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, carefully avoiding his torn lip. “Where did you leave your stele?” Meliorn asked, “I want a fresh one of those marks on you before we sleep.”

“Mel,” Jace whined, too tired and floaty to even think about what an iratze rune looked like.

“Continue on like this and I’ll make you eat something, too,” Meliorn replied. He pushed himself up off Jace and began puttering around the room. Jace was aware of his presence even with his eyes closed, so deeply attuned to Meliorn’s body that following him with his other senses was as easy as breathing. He hummed when a warm, wet cloth began sweeping over his skin, breath hitching when Meliorn carefully whipped away the mess on his most sensitive places. “Jace,” Meliorn prodded again after he’d returned from disposing of the cloth.

“In my pants,” Jace mumbled. Within a moment his jeans thwacked awkwardly against his side, and Jace fumbled through them blindly until he had his stele in hand. He swiped it sloppily over a half-faded iratze on his thigh. Or was that Stamina? No, nope, he was right. His lip flared in new pain as it closed, and so did his ear.

“Happy?” Jace asked, cracking one eye open. Meliorn was watching him, his swollen lips turned up fondly. He pulled up the sheets Jace wasn’t lying on and patted the cool silk he’d revealed invitingly. Jace sighed and rolled over, accepting his reward-kiss with good grace.

“Perfectly happy, my love,” Meliorn said, pressing another kiss to Jace’s hair. Jace’s heart twittered happily, and he turned to hide his smile in the pillows.

“Then come cuddle me before I become seriously not happy,” Jace tossed over his shoulder. He was gratified when Meliorn’s familiar warmth surrounded him, holding him, Jace suspected, so that he wouldn’t roll and upset his new piercing. Angelic healing was apparently not trusted enough by Meliorn for Jace, Jace thought with an undeniable spark of pleasure.

“I’d like to speak more in the morning,” Meliorn murmured as Jace balanced on the edge of sleep.

Drunk on exhaustion and endorphins, Jace’s tongue got away from him again. “I don’t care if we go Alicante apartment hunting in the afternoon. Just be quiet now and don’t leave me alone.”

A soft kiss fell against Jace’s temple. “Never,” Meliorn swore, and Jace drifted off with his promise warm in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Meliorn/Jace is a weakness of mine, so I wrote this as a birthday/Christmas present to myself. I hope you all enjoy this as well! There may be more coming--I'm really liking this 'verse, and Seelie politics intrigue me--so I would especially love to hear what all of you think of this piece. I look forward to hearing from you in the comments.


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